The Grave Ritual
by MKproot
Summary: A cult that practices the process of live burial comes under investigation of the FBI the Las Vegas Crime Lab. While this case hits a little too close for comfort for one CSI, one CSI and FBI agent find themselves in grave danger...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: "CSI" does not belong to me, neiter does Criminal Minds. Any character development that takes place in this fan fiction is non-cannon, as this is purely made up from my very weird mind.

* * *

The slow breeze of Nevada's night air cools the developing fever all over his body. The desert is really hot during the day in Nevada, but at night the temperature drops and for him, it acts as a cool down to his exercise. He knew that he would finish his preparations just in time for the moon to rise.

His rough, brown-stained hands sting from the splinters from his tool. He has been using this tool for the last two hours, but it feels like he's used it his whole life. The part that his hands grasp firmly is smooth wood that is starting to chip from use. The nose of the tool reeks of rust and earth. His clothes are glued to his damp skin, smelling of the dry desert air. His eyes are heavy with exhaustion, because he has only stopped for the nourishing nutrients that are given from water twice during his shift. Once he finishes his job, he will be able to rest. All of this labor, all of this pain, will be worth the silent sanctuary he is working his way to.

The nose hits something. He sets down his tool and picks up another, this one plastic. He sways this tool back and forth, dusting off the door to his paradise. Once a majority of the dust is off, he bends down to brush the rest off with his bare hands. He smiles as he looks at his clear doorway while taking one last sip of water. Once he chugs the bottled lake into his body, he throws it aside and opens the door. He glances at his assistant, who has been a simple spectator throughout the process. She had offered to help, but he refused. This was his grave ritual, not hers.

"I'm ready," his hoarse voice croaks. He lies down on the surface, allowing his assistant to close the door behind him. He grins at her, the kind lady's platinum hair glowing in the full moon's light. She beams back at him and begins to return the earth to its rightful place. It takes a less amount of time than it did to retrieve the earth in the first place. She is still grinning, even when she hears a surround-sound click ring full blast in her ears. She turns and the grin fades away as she lets out a blood-curdling scream...

* * *

After clocking in what seems like a month's worth of overtime and working a quadruple 419 in murder central at a four star hotel, Nick Stokes is exhausted. Catherine took one look at him and let him go home. He hasn't eaten or showered since his arrival to his sanctuary. The first thing he does is flop down on his bed, his body sinking in his soft mattress. He kicks off his shoes and digs his phone out of his pocket to set it on his side table. He could care less about a blanket and immediately shuts his eyes, which have been open for the last twenty four hours. The buzz of his endless cups of coffee has officially faded away, so he does not have to worry about the continuous cycle of tossing and turning.

_Sleep has never felt so good..._Nick thinks to himself as he begins to nod off into dreamland.

The feeling of comfort that Nick has been craving isn't able to last for even an hour. His phone rings on full blast, startling Nick as he awakens with a gasp for air.

"What the hell?" Nick moans, praying to God that it's just a wrong number. His eyes are already yearning to close again.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Stokes?" a young voice answers. "It's...It's me, Tommy Baker. You said I could call if I had a problem?"

"Yeah, yeah, what's up, Tommy?" Nick asks, suddenly alert again. Tommy had been beaten up and raped, a crime that Nick can relate to. Nick had given Tommy his number, in case he needed anything. Nick knows that his brother is locked up for the time being and his mother is a drunk.

"It's my friend, Ian, he...we need help, please, Mr. Stokes,"

"Tommy, I'm on my way with help, okay?" Nick replies, sliding his feet into his shoes and rushing out the door, still talking to Tommy. "Where does Ian live?"

Nick repeats the address that Tommy gives him to the radio in his car. They respond with assurance that an ambulance and a patrol car are on their way.

"Tommy, what exactly is going on?" Nick asks as he drives according to his GPS. He had entered the address into it so Tommy could talk to him without distractions. Nick very much wants to know exactly what he is driving into, especially since it caused him to lose valuable sleep.

"Ian b-buried himself alive..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: "CSI" does not belong to me, neiter does Criminal Minds. Any character development that takes place in this fan fiction is non-cannon, as this is purely made up from my very weird mind. (Lucky Too belongs to Bob Neuwrith)**

* * *

The flashing silent police sirens sting Nick's vision. He should have been smart and quickly grabbed something to drink or eat to restore his energy. Then again, he should be used to having this amount of energy by now. He normally is, actually, but for some reason he isn't tonight.

Maybe it's the fact that the latest victim has been buried alive. Nick is now able to relate to not only Tommy, but his friend Ian.

But shouldn't a reminder of a horrific experience bring an adrenaline rush? Sometimes Nick has nightmares involving his traumatic experiences and he'll wake up sweating and he'll feel adrenaline pumping in his bloodstream all over his body.

This time, though, he isn't waking up from a nightmare. He's on a case, and the last time he was on a case and was reminded of this experience, he did have a small adrenaline rush. But why not now, when his trauma should be evident? He can't have possibly gotten over it, even though he feels almost apathetic about this case so far...

No, apathy is the wrong idea. This feeling is identical to the one he had when he was indeed in the box. He remembers the blinding bright light that would caused the temperature in the box to rise to an incredible heat. He remembers the cramped space, having to lay his hands on top of his chest because they could barely fit on either side of him. He remembers the air getting thinner as his body felt tighter...He remembers being in that box for a whole twenty four hours before being found, unable to sleep during that time out of fear that he wouldn't wake up.

But this feeling is not what he normally feels when reminded of the day in hell. Normally he feels that adrenaline rush, he feels the fire ants devouring his flesh, and he feels the stiffness of his bones because they cannot move in the claustrophobia inducing space he was put into...

"Well it's a good thing I came now, isn't it? If I had come when he told me to, he could have been dead!"

"Well, I don't think he had this on his agenda!" Tommy replies heatedly.

Nick snaps out of his thought process and looks at the scene before him. A young man, presumably Ian, is being taken away in an ambulance. He walks to the back of the house and notices Tommy and a young girl that Nick recognizes as Jessica stand near the hole where Ian had been buried.

Jessica Smith is the younger sister of Wayne Smith, who is the rapist that beat up Tommy. The last Nick saw, Jess and Tommy had broken up because Tommy was reminded of the late Wayne every time he saw Jessica's face.

Nick sees Officer Mitchell taping off the hole and then Nick notices a small blood pool next to the hole. It could be Ian's, but Nick could be wrong. Assume nothing, as Grissom always said.

"Stokes, glad you're here," Mitchell says to him when he notices Nick. "I'm, uh, guessing you lost your uniform and kit?"

Nick realizes that he had not come here as a CSI officially yet. Technically now he is because he responded to the crime scene. He'll have to call Catherine...

As for the uniform, Nick has it in his locker. He didn't feel like changing out of his street clothes, which right now are composed of a pale green hoodie over a black t-shirt and jeans. He does have his kit in his car, but he wants to hear what Tommy and Jess have to say before he does anything.

"I'm only here because Tommy called me. Otherwise I'd be catching up on some well-earned sleep," Nick replies to Mitchell, pulling out his flashlight that he always has in his pocket.

"Tough shift?" Mitchell asks, understanding Nick's schedule.

"Yeah, to say the least," Nick grins back wearily. He stifles a yawn as he begins to text Catherine about what's going on.

"Ok, then what did he have on his agenda, Tommy?"

"I don't know! He hasn't been talkative lately, you know that!"

"Yeah, and neither have you! Hell, you're not even looking me in the eye!"

Nick sends the text to Catherine and waits for her phone call asking what the hell is going on.

"What, does that bother you? Why do I need to look into your eyes? I've seen them hundreds of times!"

"Tommy, you've been like this ever since my brother died. You were never like this! You know I love you and I know you love me! Just please, tell me what's bothering you!"

"Jess, this isn't the time or the place!"

"Then when is the time? When is the place? Tommy, please, tell me," Jessica pleads, grabbing Tommy's hand gently.

Nick can see Tommy draw a deep breath. He feels as if he is watching a soap opera. And this is the part where a character reveals a secret from their past, isn't it?

"You're brother...He...He ra...rap..." Tommy croaks, his voice starting to crack. Nick can see a tear slide down his cheek in the moonlight.

"He raped you?" Jessica asks quietly. Tommy nods as her mouth drops open. "Tommy...Tommy, I'm so..."

"It's what makes a person, I guess," Tommy replies, cutting Jessica off. Nick shudders again. He had said the exact same thing to Catherine when he had revealed what happened when he was nine on a case that bothered Nick deeply.

Nick clears his throat, putting this love story aside for the time being.

"Mr. Stokes! I'm sorry; I didn't realize you came so fast..." Tommy says, walking over to Nick with Jessica following him.

"I'm only a couple blocks away, it's no big deal," Nick shrugs. "So what exactly is going on?"

"I came here to see Ian, his parents are out of town and we were gonna hang out. I saw that he left the front door open as well as the back door. I came out here and saw a shovel sticking out of the ground, and I assumed it was him so I started digging and I called Tommy because I couldn't think of anybody else to call-"

"I answered and when I got here she was halfway done with the hole. I finished the rest up and then I called you when we got him out of the coffin," Tommy finishes, concentrating on not looking at Jessica.

"What about this blood? Was Ian bleeding?" Nick asks.

"No, that was there when I came," Jessica replies. "Mr. Stokes, I-we-know Ian and he wouldn't let anything like this happen. He's a tough guy..."

"Yeah, well, sometimes that doesn't matter," Nick states grimly. "I think you two will have to give the detective your official report when he arrives...if you'll excuse me,"

Nick's phone had begun ringing. It's Catherine, as Nick had guessed.

"Nick, are you okay on your own out there?"

"Yeah, Cath, I'm only running on no hours of sleep. I'll be fine," Nick replies. "I've done it before,"

"Well, I'm sending Ray over, okay? He'll brief you on some other cases that have been similar to this..."

_Other cases? How many people get buried alive like this every day?_

"And Nick, are you going to be okay working this case?" Catherine asks, obviously knowing what Nick went through.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Nick replies, stifling another yawn. "I'll talk to you later, Cath, I'm gonna start processing the scene,"

Nick had walked over to the car while he was talking to Catherine. He opened the trunk and took out his kit and camera. As he closes his trunk, he sees Captain Jim Brass pull up and get out of his car with a cup of coffee. Nick is immediately envious, his body sending signals to his brain for the burst of energy coffee can provide.

"Figured you might need a little pick-me-up after the shift you just pulled," Brass greets him, holding out the Styrofoam cup filled with the sweet taste of caffeine.

"You're a life saver, Jim," Nick replies. The two begin to walk to the back of the house again. "Tommy and Jess are out back, I got a little of their story. They don't seem to be too connected to the crime,"

"Yeah, well, I'll see about that," Brass replies. He then breaks off from Nick to perform his job.

Nick ducks under the crime scene tape and proceeds to take pictures of the scene. The hole is about four feet deep, maybe four and a half. The coffin is made of wood on all sides except for the lid, which is glass. Unlike Nick's coffin, there is no fan or light. This coffin is simply a box with a glass lid. This was made for Ian to die in, unlike Nick's in which he had a chance for survival.

But why bury Ian in his own backyard? Sure, his parents are out of town, but how could you find the time to incapacitate Ian, dig the hole, put Ian in and fill it back up before Jessica got to the scene? Also, what about the blood?

_It was Christmas in Las Vegas/When the locals take the town..._Nick begins to sing to himself amidst these thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: "CSI" does not belong to me, neiter does Criminal Minds. Any character development that takes place in this fan fiction is non-cannon, as this is purely made up from my very weird mind.**

Red sores began to show on Nick's hands as he took pictures. He hasn't put on a pair of latex gloves just yet, though he should if he begins to pick up evidence.

But the sores on his hands...What are they? Nick hasn't touched anything other than his property, and it's highly unlikely that his doorknob has bacteria on it that could have caused all of this.

They begin to itch and Nick scratches them, wincing at the prickling that begins to devour his whole body. It's as if a million needles are injecting something really bitter into every pore in his skin...

Fire ants. _Solenopsis ivicta,_ as Grissom had taught him. Millions of fire ants, crawling all over his skin without Nick knowing until they began injecting a high concentration of piperidine into his body, which could have killed him if the ants weren't killed in time.

Fire ants are called what they are for a reason. The heat was bad enough from lack of fresh air, but the oven Nick was trapped in was turned from pre-heat to the highest temperature, cooking his body alive literally. The ants were biting viciously into his skin, but Nick was able to close off his ears and nose, which prevented the ants from further infiltrating his body. He then stood still, remembering the mini-lesson Grissom had given him on a case he had worked on that involved the dreaded insects.

But the more painful trivia on fire ants was highlighted when Nick had to act fast. He had no time to concentrate on how to stop them, nor the sanity. The fan was running out of battery and Nick was going to die a slow and painful death.

His mind was probably the source of most of the pain that day. After about twelve hours of that hell he was beginning to slip. He contemplated offing himself for about a minute, but then shot the light instead, which was the cause of the fire ants marching in. So technically, he did bring the pain upon himself.

But he didn't expect the box to crack. He didn't expect the dirt to pour in, filling in a space that could have held precious oxygen. In fact, the fan near his feet was partially covered with that dirt pile. And then the ants came in...

What else was he supposed to do, though? The light was taking up the fan's battery and the fan was more important. Nick would do it all over again, exactly the same way, if he had to.

The ants are one thing Nick wouldn't want to deal with, however. Out of all of the experiences he's suffered, the ants have got to be the worst. Nick would rather be in that box for a week before getting bitten by one ant.

Nick had gotten a small infection from the ants in a couple of bites during his panic attack when they began to bite him. He had begun to scratch them both before and after he was rescued. He picked up some creams from the pharmacy to help get rid of the bumps covering his whole body, but some bites just itched like hell. He scratched himself constantly, mainly his wrists, as if he were having a drug withdrawal. The ants weren't the only reason he scratched, though. You read all the time about claw marks being found inside of coffins when they are dug up. That was exactly the case with Nick. Trying to claw your way out of the box is just one of those things you do in that situation.

"Stop doing that, Nicky, you're just gonna get more infected," Grissom had told him one day when they were in the field. Grissom wasn't even looking at him and he didn't even say it that loud. He had said it as if he were telling Nick what the weather was going to be like. But the way he said it had caused Nick to stop, someway, somehow...

Nick looks down at his hands as he scratches the sides of his wrists. He forces himself to stop and the sores disappear. The redness from Nick scratching was left, though.

"You okay, Nick?" Ray Langston's voice suddenly shudders in Nick's ears, interrupting the continuous hum of the fan that supplied him air for twenty-four hours.

Nick's heart sends a jolt of adrenaline through his body as he shifts back into reality.

"Yeah, Ray, I'm fine," Nick quickly says. "So, what's the deal with these 'other cases'?"

Langston starts to take samples as he beings to fill Nick in.

"We have found three other teenagers in the same manner, found by their best friends. The first case did not have the second victim, though,"

"Second victim?"

"There's a victim who was buried and a victim who was killed. In the other two scenes, the body of the second victim had been kept at the scene,"

"So we're looking for another body," Nick says as he stares out into the desert that lies in the backyard of Ian's home. A chain-link fence is the only thing that separates Ian's property from the seemingly endless sand-covered wasteland. The backyard's green grass slowly dies out and becomes the tan colored dirt that belongs to the desert. There is a gate leading out into the darkness, and Nick notices drag marks under the gate door when he shines his flashlight at it. He walks towards the gate and notices that it's unlocked. He also notices the small amounts of blood that were attempted to be covered up by dirt. Instead of contaminating the potential evidence, Nick swings his camera gently over the fence and hoists himself over the top, reminded of the days in high school when he would sneak out to go party with his friends.

He lands on the other side, picks up his camera and continues to follow the drag marks, the sounds at the crime scene becoming more and more distant. He looks back once, but doesn't again after that.

The air feels cool, as it always is in the desert at this time of night. The night is still young, so the temperatures aren't too extreme yet. But Nick has been out at this time without a sweatshirt and it isn't pleasant. The last time that happened was actually when he was pulled out of the box...

* * *

_"Nick!"_

_A high-pitched tone rang in his ears. He coughed out dirt that had entered his mouth in the explosion. He felt shards of glass poke him in various places of his ant bite-covered body. His eyes shuttered open and closed, gathering only glimpses of the scene he is wrapped in. His breath fogged up his own vision when his eyes are open. His body felt very shaky, not just because of the claustrophobic feeling that made him crave to move even a centimeter, but because of the sudden exposure to the cold Nevada night air._

_"War...Warrick..." Nick's hoarse voice quivered. Both the screaming and lack of actually talking contributed to the scratchiness of Nick's voice. He felt Warrick's hand grab his tightly as Nick heard other indistinct voices. _

_He felt another hand grasp his shoulder tightly and he felt his body roll over. Was he dead? Were they just moving his body to be taken to the morgue?_

_"It's okay, Nick, we got you," Warrick's voice rang in his ears from what seemed like days ago when they opened the lid to Nick's coffin. _

_"Where are the paramedics?" Grissom yelled. _

_"Gris..." Nick muttered, trying to put a name to a face. Why is thinking so hard right now? _

_He felt a warm material blanket his body. It felt like Nick's windbreaker. Did they realize that it is extremely cold right now?_

_But only his skin feels cold. The wounds left by the fire ants still burn his body, the red bumps stinging and itching like hell..._

_Nick groaned in pain with the flashback of the ant attack. Even though the ants are extinguished, the pain still remains. _

_"Just a little longer, Pancho," Grissom told him. Nick opened his eyes a little and saw Grissom and Warrick helping the paramedics lift his body onto a gurney. Nick couldn't seem to find his voice to say anything, nor the desire to move any part of his stiff body. He simply allowed himself to get pushed into the back of an ambulance, his eyes shutting tightly again at the sudden burst of light. _

_"Nicky..." Warrick whispered as the doors to the vehicle closed around him. Nick held out his hand instead of saying anything, feeling as if he were drugged again and unable to move his body much without a vast amount of effort. _

_He felt Warrick grab his hand back and heard the sirens turn on, signaling that the vehicle needs to have the advantage of speed. _

_"Grissom just called," Catherine's voice said suddenly, breaking through the soft siren. "The team's getting back together."_

_The corners of Nick's mouth twitched into a true smile for the first time in twenty four hours before all of his senses and feelings shut down, receding into the unconscious state they suffered when Nick was put under by his kidnapper..._

* * *

Nick stands at the top of the hill, having sprinted up to the top instead of stepping, sliding, and then spending more time than required going to the top of the hill.

He looks down and watches as the trail becomes redder as it slithers down into the ground level of the desert. At the bottom, Nick spots the discarded body of a young teenage woman, who looks like a senior in high school. Her hair is a platinum blonde, glowing in the moonlight that beams down on her like a spotlight. She is dressed in a light blue t-shirt with a pair of jeans that have dirt stains at the knees. Her shoes which were once originally white are tinted light brown, as if they were stained by coffee.

But the feature that stands out most to Nick is the large red stain embedded on the ripped light blue t-shirt and the wound that caused it.

Nick turns back and looks at Langston, who is a good distance away. Nick walked a good seven minutes before reaching this spot, and he can see his colleague in the distance, but only barely.

Nick takes out his cell phone and dials Langston's number.

"Nick, where are you?" Langston's voice answers.

"Look up,"

Nick waves as Langston looks up from looking down at the hole in which Ian was buried.

"What are you doing all the way over there?"

"I found our other vic," Nick informs him.

"I'll call the Doc," Langston replies and he hangs up.

Nick sighs and slides down the hill to the body slowly and carefully. He begins to document the body and suddenly feels a weird tingling on his hand. He looks down at it, expecting it to be a mosquito, but it is actually a small red dot nibbling at the surface of his hand.

Nick quickly brushes the bug off, taken aback by its sudden appearance. It doesn't make any sense, though. Fire ants aren't very common in Nevada, and according to Grissom they're only found in plant and tree nurseries...right?

Nick looks down for the little red devil, shining his flashlight in all directions for the demon and doesn't find it. He then looks at his hand and notices that he wasn't bitten at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Do not own the characters from Criminal Minds and CSI. The quote is from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Premature Burial."

* * *

"To be buried while alive is, beyond question, the most terrific of these extremes which has ever fallen to the lot of mere mortality." Edgar Allan Poe.

Reid stares at the pictures of four empty graves and the four female victims found several feet away from the scene. The first two occupants of the grave were found dead. The third occupant died in the hospital. The fourth is currently in the hospital.

All four female victims were found with a bullet to their chest. The killer would move their bodies to an abandoned area. Would this be to prevent them from being found?

"All in," Emily Prentiss says to Derek Morgan.

"We haven't even reached Vegas yet and you're both losing your money," JJ remarks as she sits across from Reid, texting her husband on her phone.

How could these four young women knock out these men and put them in their coffins? Reid doesn't mean to be sexist, but these teenagers don't seem to have the physical strength to overcome the buried victims and put them in their box. Then again, maybe they had a gun. The toxicology reports didn't report any type of drug in any of the bodies. So no drugs were used to incapacitate the victims...

"Technically you're gambling on company time," David Rossi remarks as he returns from the bathroom, giving a look to Aaron Hotchner, who is also looking at the case file.

"As long as they don't give it away to some random hooker, it's fine with me," Hotch passively comments, his eyes meeting Prentiss' for a moment before he looks down at the case file quickly.

Reid continues to look at the crime scene photos and begins to wonder how each crime could have turned out exactly the same. Someone close to the buried victims had dug them up and then the police and CSIs followed the drag marks to the female victims, all shot in the same way. This seems to be similar to be the work of a serial killer.

But there is no evidence of signs of struggle on either victim. The lack of a gun found at the scene suggests it's highly unlikely that the female victims could kill themselves. And again, where would the female victims get the strength to overpower the buried victims?

"Helped solve the case, though," Reid mutters as he continues to sift through the case file.

* * *

Four boxes lie on the layout room, each containing the four victims that have been buried alive. They scream loudly and relentlessly as they attempt to escape their confinement, pounding and scratching on the clear lid to the box. Their cries for help cannot be heard under the earth that clothed their tombs. But they can be heard by him...

Nick blinks and suddenly he too is on the lay out table, in a clear coffin equipped with a blank light and two fans. But the fans are off and the heat is increased in the already scorching hot coffin with the blank stare of the light. He doesn't see the ceiling of the layout table, but rather a ceiling composed of dirt.

He blinks again and lets out an involuntary gasp for air. The coffins are now gone and he is left with the soft glow of the layout table, covered with pictures of the crime scene photos.

Nick looks around. Nobody seemed to notice his small panic attack. He lets out a small chuckle and concentrates on looking at the crime scene photos again.

What is wrong with him today? It's been five years. The trauma should be over, but now it's slowly creeping back into his mind. He forces himself to push away the sounds and images grabbing his body that is slowly being pulled down into the ground...

"Nick, the coffins are in the garage. Do you want to come and take a look at them?" Langston's voice suddenly says.

Nick turns around to see Langston in a jumpsuit.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," Nick replies. Langston leaves and Nick turns around again to see five coffins on the table, the fifth one being his own.


	5. Chapter 5

NOTE: As usual, don't own anything. The episode Langston is referring to at the beginning is "Turn, Turn, Turn" for those who want to know. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing! :)

* * *

"There's no scratch marks on the lid," Nick mutters softly as he examines the third coffin. He had looked at each coffin individually, beginning with the first and noticed the lack of scratch marks on the glass lids.

"What was that, Nick?" Langston asks as he looks at the fourth one.

"They didn't struggle in the coffin. They didn't try to get out, they didn't panic. They just...lied there," Nick explained in a very confused tone. "Tox report said they weren't drugged...It's almost as if they did it _voluntarily_,"

Langston stares at Nick, who suddenly turns pale. He can understand why. Putting yourself in a coffin and lying still isn't going to be on a normal person's agenda. The thought of being enclosed in such a tight space with a very small amount of oxygen to keep you alive sends a shiver down Langston's spine. But it seems to be affecting Nick more than usual. In the two years that Langston has known Nick Stokes, he's only seen Nick so...so broken like this once, and it was on the poor guys' birthday.

_"Tonight, there's only one voice...And she keeps asking me 'what happened? What happened?'"_ Nick had said through tears as he and Langston talked about the tragic murder of Haley Jones. Langston couldn't offer much comfort, and went home almost as depressed as Nick was. Nick's breakdown showed him what this job can do to one's mind...

But Nick isn't breaking down, at least visibly. The look on Nick's face is one of disgust and almost horror. He looks like he is going to vomit. His hands are beginning to twitch.

He was about to ask Nick if he was okay when Catherine comes into the room.

"Boys, the FBI are coming. They want us to meet them in the conference room as soon as they get here, so you might want to clean up," She says. Nick blinks and nods, looking at Langston before leaving the room.

"Who asked the FBI to help on this case?" Langston asks Catherine as he walks alongside her on his way to the locker room.

"Who else but our friendly neighborhood Undersheriff? Don't worry, though, I know this FBI team that's coming and they are here to help, not hinder," Catherine replies.

"Listen, Cath, I think something's up with-" Langston starts, but Catherine's phone rings.

"Sorry, Ray, I have to take this," Catherine tells him and then turns into her office. Langston continues to the locker room, where Nick is sitting on the bench, fully dressed and putting his gun back together. His expression is just as shattered and disgusted as before. He slams his locker shut and leaves the room, almost in a rage, to the bathroom where Langston hears Nick retching the contents of his stomach.

* * *

"Has anyone talked to Ian yet?" Prentiss asks. The CSIs are expanding on the information in the case file. Langston notices that Nick's hands are shaking in his lap as he stares blankly at the case file. He also notices that Hotch and Prentiss seem to be sitting closer together than anyone else at the table. Hotch looked at Prentiss for a moment while she was talking and vice versa. Could they be in a relationship?

"Not yet, but I just got a text from Brass, Ian is awake," Catherine reports with her cell phone in her hand.

"I'll go talk to him," Nick says and stands up abruptly. He seems to be more than happy to get up and do something.

"I'll go with him," Morgan adds, hopping up to go with Nick.

"You said on the phone that Ian's friends were the ones who called 911. Did they seem physically capable of overtaking Ian or his girlfriend?" Reid asks.

"No, they didn't. Nick told me that his friends acted weird, though. When Tommy Baker, one of the friends, called Nick he said 'Ian buried himself alive' and also said that Ian hasn't been very talkative lately," Langston replies. "Nick noticed the lack of scratch marks on the lids of each of the coffins, and the lack of drugs in the toxicology report,"

"So maybe the killer had a gun to each of the victims. People are capable of doing anything under pressure," Rossi inputs. "Told them to stay down in the coffin or they'll get a bullet in their head,"

"Yeah, but why bother not fighting? Being shot would be a quicker and easier death than being in a coffin for up to an hour or so without another source of oxygen," Sara refutes and Langston can see her eyes dart to Nick's empty seat for a moment.

"Well, we'll know more when Nick and Morgan talk to Ian," Hotch says as he stands up. "I'm going to go talk to Tommy,"

"I'll talk to Jessica," Prentiss replies, standing up almost as abruptly as Nick did. The two FBI agents leave the room, and Langston can hear low, indistinct chatter follow them out. He is curious as to what they are talking about, but forces himself to concentrate on the case again.

"So until we know more, it seems that we're assuming these four kids buried themselves alive?" Rossi asks rhetorically.

The remaining CSIs and FBI agents all share a grim moment of silence that serves as each of their belief in the sickening assumption they wish wasn't true.


	6. Chapter 6

"What's bugging you, Nick?" Morgan asks in the middle of their conversation about football. Morgan reminds Nick a lot of Warrick, and while it's a little disturbing how similar they are to each other, Nick finds that it comforting to know that while Warrick may be gone, there are still people out there like him.

"What do you mean? Nothing's bugging me," Nick denies, a little more fast than he should have. His heart sinks as he remembers that Morgan's a profiler and will easily know Nick is lying.

"C'mon, man, you don't have to be a profiler to know that something is up. In the conference room, you distanced yourself from your co-workers, but you've known them for many years from what I can tell. Your hands were twitching from the moment you sat down and when we began talking about the case. The twitch was subtle and drew your hands in as if they were magnets, and the last time I saw that it was with a dude that had been handcuffed for a couple days. Your mouth was slightly open and I'm sure your breathing was shallow. You were quick to leave the discussion of the case. You also didn't make eye contact with anybody, instead staring at the folder and you looked like you were ready to vomit.

"Both of us have seen some sick cases in our time. We go to hell and back every day, even when we're not on duty. Part of our job description is to pretend that we aren't affected by this hell, but we are. Whether it's a molested kid or a dead hooker, a fire lights up in our hearts we can use that to drive ourselves to solve the case. But you don't seem to be driving, Nick. You're not even in the car. I may not know you too well, Nick, but you don't seem like the kind of guy that hesitates to get into the car. So I'm going to ask you again; what's bugging you?"

Nick smiles gravely as his eyes twinkle in the neon lights of the city.  
_  
Damn, this guy's good._

"Five years ago, this would never happen to me. I wouldn't be so affected by a case where it causes a mental breakdown more than once a month. I would be able to put _some_ of my emotions aside and solve the case as best as I could. Cases would never make me go home, thanking God that I am still alive. But all that changed the night me and a co-worker flipped a coin for a case," Nick tells Morgan, staring at speeding neon lights with "Lucky Too" playing in his head like it did that night. He remembers the elevated mood he was in that night, despite having lost to Warrick.

_"I'd do two out of three, but you've got a gambling problem,"_ Nick had joked. "_Hey, you know what? You keep this; it's bad luck._"

"I lost."

* * *

"Hey, what's up?" Prentiss answers her phone. She was having a conversation with Jessica's aunt, who was still awake despite it being early in the morning. Jessica has been living in her house for the last year while she waits to finish high school and start her own life.

"Emily, Jessica and Tommy are at the station, finishing their statements," Hotch informs her. He was smart and checked the station before knocking on Tommy's door, figuring that he would be giving an official account of what happened at Ian's house. Because he and Jessica were the first at the crime scene, they were technically suspects. Brass worked with them and exonerated Tommy with a confirmed alibi, but Jessica was still on the fence.

"Okay, I'll be over there in a couple minutes," Prentiss replies and waits for the tone before she hangs up on Hotch. "I'm sorry to disturb you. Jessica is at the station, she should be home soon. Thanks for your cooperation,"

Prentiss begins to walk down the steps and is in the process of pressing the button to unlock her car when the aunt calls out.

"I had been putting laundry in Jessica's room and noticed something off," the aunt explains. "She had a shovel in her closet,"

* * *

"Tommy Baker," Hotch calls out to Tommy as he begins to leave the station. "I'm Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. I understand that this has been a crazy night, but I need to ask you a few questions,"

"About Ian?" Tommy asks as Hotch nonverbally leads him to the waiting room, which is empty for the time being. He doesn't want to make Tommy uncomfortable, considering this is only a few questions about Ian. "Yeah, sure, go ahead,"

"Have you noticed any behavior lately that may have signaled something like this was going to happen? Maybe suicidal behavior?" Hotch asks him.

"No, none at all. I mean, I haven't seen him too often lately, but when I've talked to him he's actually seemed...happy. Jess says he hasn't been very talkative lately, but again I haven't seen him often enough to judge that. Other than that, I haven't noticed much else,"

"What about family? Has anything happened like a death or someone in the hospital...?"

"No, not that I know of,"

Hotch takes out a picture of the female victim that had been found at the scene.

"Do you know who she is?" he asks.

Tommy stares at the picture and gulps. His cheeks suddenly turn a greenish tint and he vomits a little on the floor.

"No, I don't," Tommy replies roughly. "Who...how...could..."

Hotch doesn't know if Tommy is simply lying or if he is genuinely affected by seeing this picture. For all Hotch knows, this could be the first time Tommy has ever seen a dead body. Hotch lets him settle down and he puts the photo away. He stands up and hands Tommy a tissue to wipe his mouth.

"Thanks for your help, Tommy. If you come up with anything don't be afraid to call me or anybody else,"

"Same," Tommy offers shortly, probably out of fear that he will vomit again. Hotch turns to leave the room, his hand touching the glossy, silver knob.

"Agent Hotchner," Tommy starts suddenly. Hotch turns around and he is still sitting, but staring up at Hotch. "Is Ian okay?"

"I don't know," Hotch replies honestly. "Agent Morgan and CSI Stokes are at the hospital right now,"

"Oh, okay, thanks," Tommy replies and looks back down at his vomit as the janitor comes in to clean it up. Hotch leaves, but watches Tommy as he passes by the glass windows. Tommy's hands are twitching slightly and are drawn close together. His mouth is gaping open, and he seems to be taking deep breaths. Hotch quickly recalls that when he was talking to Tommy, Tommy didn't make eye contact at all...


	7. Chapter 7

Note: For those who don't know about the scene from "Scared to Death" with Morgan and Reid in an elevator, I suggest you go look it up right now. I own neither CSI nor Criminal Minds.

* * *

Nick and Morgan wait in the lobby patiently for the doctor taking care of Ian. A nurse had come out of Ian's room and told the two to wait for the doctor. Normally, neither of them mind if they have to wait. It's understandable that the doctor would want to talk to the people questioning his patient. But Nick seems a tad bit impatient, but not as much as he would have been if he didn't tell Morgan what happened to him five years ago.

Morgan has never been kidnapped. Only one member of his team had been kidnapped, and that was Reid. But Reid wasn't eaten alive by fire ants. Reid didn't have to suffer his own team depleting the battery on his source of oxygen. Reid wasn't in a rigged box six feet under ground for 24 hours. Reid didn't consider committing suicide, and even if he did, he didn't have a gun to shoot himself.

But Nick wasn't handcuffed and tied to a chair for two days. Nick wasn't kidnapped by an schizophrenic unsub manipulating God to justify his crimes. Nick didn't develop a drug addiction because of the drugs given to him by his kidnapper. Nick didn't have to choose a member of the team to die. Nick didn't have to watch the murder of two innocent people on a computer monitor. Nick didn't have the choice of shooting his kidnapper or getting shot.

Morgan can't say who had it worse, but right now he's leaning towards Nick. At least when Reid was kidnapped he had human interaction. Nick was isolated. Nobody could hear his screams. The only voice he could listen to was his own. There were two small fans giving him oxygen, two fans that would turn off every time his team pressed a button to watch him. He didn't even know it was his team controlling his source of air. Hell, they thought that keeping the light on was helping Nick.

The only thing the light did for Nick was make him sweat more. He didn't have any food or water to keep him hydrated, and with that amount of heat, Nick was as good as dead.

So why did Nick try so hard? There was no way of knowing if anybody was even looking for Nick. Morgan would have offed himself. Sure, he would have tried to stay alive, but if he shot the light the same way Nick did and those ants began injecting their poison into his skin, he definitely would have signed his own death certificate.

Morgan looks at Nick, whose breathing seems to be slowing down and becoming normal again. Maybe finally talking about his experience with someone helped him?

Morgan, on the other hand, is feeling very disturbed at the moment. No wonder Nick has been freaking out during this case. Even though Nick said the trauma had subdued about half a year after the experience, Morgan thinks that he would still be having nightmares. Nick probably does have them and doesn't tell anybody. Nick seemed to be trying to control his silent panic attacks, maybe to prove to his co-workers that he is okay. How could anybody be as sane as Nick seems to be after being buried alive? Just the thought of what Nick went through is making Morgan shudder.

"Are _you_ okay, man?" Nick suddenly asks Morgan, who was staring at the space underneath four empty seats, imagining Nick's body encased in the glass box he had described. "You look like you're going to be sick,"

_24 hours six feet underground. A gun, a tape recorder and glow sticks. Two fans. One light. Shoot the light or crack the box in any way, and millions of fire ants come marching in and begin having a feast..._

"Of all the cases I've worked on, of all the victims I've seen, of all the unsubs I've had to know life stories about...this one seems like it's going to top the cake," Morgan tells him, the image of Nick in a box still floating in his mind.

"What's an unsub?" Nick asks.

"Mr. Stokes, I'm so surprised to see you here," a female doctor says sarcastically as she walks up to them. "I'm guess you're here for...Ian, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Nick replies with a smile.

"He's coming back into consciousness now. He's dehydrated and a little disoriented, but he should be able to leave in no time. Just don't stress him out too much," she tells him. Morgan can tell by the way both the doctor and Nick are comfortable that Nick's known this doctor for a while. "He's in room 345. Take it easy, okay, Stokes?"

"You, too," Nick replies and they head to the elevator.

"It's kinda sad that I know most of the staff here," Nick says with a small chuckle. He's definitely feeling better. As long as the elevator runs as smoothly as it is now, Morgan will be too.

"Well, I've gotten to know some people in certain police stations that I've had to visit more than once. One of our own is in a relationship with one detective we met,"

"Lemme guess, it's JJ?" Nick asks. "How can she have a relationship with a job like yours?"

"She just does, I guess," Morgan replies.

Suddenly the elevator drops down a little and stops. Everyone lets out a gasp of shock, and one woman screams. Morgan grabs the bars on the side of the elevator and looks at Nick, who is petrified and is back to breathing fast and shallowly.

"Oh, shit, sorry guys! I pressed the emergency stop button on accident," a man near the door says. The man suddenly lets out a loud grunt. Morgan looks over to the man and sees another man standing next to him with his fist up in the air.

Morgan then looks back at Nick, who is chuckling with relief as the elevator resumes bringing them up to the third floor.


	8. Chapter 8

NOTE: After re-reading the previous 7 chapters I realized I have a few mistakes. Langston had said that there was no second victim in the first case and that up until this new case, the second victims had been found at the scene. This is incorrect because Reid is evidently smarter than Langston. Other than that, I don't see any more mistakes at the moment, but if I do happen to make one feel free to point it out. I do not own CSI or Criminal Minds.

* * *

Hotch has been keeping an eye on Tommy and Jessica, who have remained at the police station under Hotch's request. Jessica is comforting Tommy, but Tommy seems to not want to talk to her at the moment. He isn't making eye contact with her, but is talking to her. He can't say what they are talking about, but he has a feeling it has something to do with Ian.

"Hey," Prentiss suddenly says, coming up right next to Hotch. "I take it that's Jessica and Tommy?"

"Yes. Tommy's holding back information from us and I have a feeling that Jessica will, too," Hotch informs her. "When I showed him the second victim at Ian's scene, he claimed to not have known her, but his expression when I showed him the picture implied otherwise. When I left the area, he began acting...weird. He looked like he was remembering a nightmare,"

"Jessica's already holding back information. Her aunt told me that she found a shovel in Jessica's closet,"

"Why would she have a shovel?" Hotch questions in a rhetoric manner.

"Well it's my job to find out," Prentiss replies with a playful smirk. She walks over to Jessica and Tommy.

"Jessica Smith?"

"Yes?" Jessica replies, standing up.

"I'm Emily Prentiss with the FBI. I just need to ask you a few questions. Why don't we go somewhere more private?"

Prentiss directs her to the interrogation room. As she lets Jessica in first, she shoots a look at Hotch, who is staring intently at Tommy.

"So, Jessica. I heard you were the one who found Ian, correct?" Prentiss begins as she sits down across from Jessica.

"Yeah, I noticed that lately he hasn't been talkative...Well, he has, he's been in a good mood, but just the way he's acted...It's like he doesn't care about anything anymore but his so called 'sanctuary.'"

"What has he told you about his 'sanctuary?'" Prentiss asks.

"I don't know, he's been preaching that it's giving his life meaning, that every time he visits it, all his sins are cleansed and he's born again. I thought he was literally talking about a sanctuary at a church, but if you see his room and hear what he listens to, you would think he's not the kinda guy to go to church. But when I went over there tonight, I think I discovered his sanctuary as sick as that sounds...I-I think it was his grave,"

"How did you know he was underground?" Prentiss asks her.

"Well, I just assumed because there was a large patch of dirt in the grassy area, and I saw that blood so I assumed the worst and began digging after calling Tommy,"

"That's a lot of assuming, Jessica. For all you know an animal could have gotten killed and Ian could have buried it in his backyard. But I don't think you assumed anything. You _knew_ he was buried alive, because either you've done it, or you've helped someone do it,"

"Wh-why would you think that?" Jessica retorts in disbelief.

"Your aunt found a shovel in your closet. You know, Jessica, if you really wanted to be discreet about your little hobby, you could have just kept it in a tool shed,"

"Shovel? What shovel? Who's sick enough to keep a shovel inside their room?"

"You are, apparently," Prentiss replies matter-of-factly.

"Ok, you wanna know why it's there? That wasn't the first time Ian did that. There was another time I came over and I found him coming out of a box. He didn't cover the box with dirt, but he dug the hole. I-I took the shovel away after making him fill the earth up. I was worried he was trying to off himself or something. And so I just kept it in my room where it would be safe. You can check it for prints. His and mine are on there,"

Prentiss stares at Jessica, unsure what to make of this story. It does sound true, but at the same time it doesn't.

"Can I go now? I'd really like to go see Ian,"

* * *

Nick and Morgan enter Ian's room. Ian is covered in dirt and lying on a bed. There is a pitcher of water and a full glass on his nightstand. His breathing is hoarse and he is wincing at the bright light. His blonde hair is freckled with dirt from lying on the ground when he was dug up.

Nick remembers when he woke up in the hospital. Initially he was having a nightmare after passing out from dehydration and from shock of being pulled out of the box. He remembers the nightmare so vividly. Every detail was set in place, down to the number of glow sticks he had lit and the number he hadn't.

But the dream aspect is what made it a true nightmare. The light was on again and the box had no cracks. It was if everything from him shooting the light to getting rescued had not happened. In the dream, he didn't shoot the light in fear of the ants coming. The light turned off and he waited for the fan to turn on, but it didn't. One hand grabbed the fan, scratching at it, hitting it, doing anything that would make it work. His other hand grabbed his gun and pulled it to his chin, ready to pull the trigger since he was going to die in that box anyway...

Then both hands were pulled forward. He was forced to sit up and he realized he wasn't in the box anymore. He remembers looking at his dirt covered skin, marred with small red sores that itched and some that bled. He remembers the sting in the cuts he received from the explosion, as well as the ringing in his ears from that explosion.

He also remembers the surprise of seeing the man who was beside his bed when he woke up. It was Grissom. Catherine and Ecklie went back to inform Nick's parents of what happened while taking them out for dinner (the team and doctor agreed that seeing his parents would be a little too shocking.) Warrick, Greg and Sara had been sent home to rest from their 24 hour shift.

Nick was also given a glass of water and a pitcher, which he drank-well, chugged-while Grissom told him the details of his abduction. Grissom held nothing back, knowing Nick would want nothing but the truth, no matter how disturbing it was.

Soon after, Nick's parents arrived along with Catherine and Ecklie, who took Grissom out of the room. After having a long conversation that was mostly made up of Nick telling his parents he was fine, Catherine and Grissom returned to tell him that the team was getting back together in order to cheer him up.

Nick suddenly wishes he could give Ian the same kind of good news. But Ian smiles as he opens his eyes once Nick dims the lights down.

"Let me guess," Ian says to Nick and Morgan. "You want to know what happened,"

_He's acting casual...It's as if this has happened before._

"We know _what _happened. We want to know why," Morgan elaborates. "I've heard of euthanasia before, but never a form of voluntary torture,"

"Never heard of role-playing or S&M?" Ian replies, grinning with a devilsh teenage boy smile that Nick knows all too well from personal experience. "This isn't 'torture' anyway, man,"

Ian lets out a cough and takes a large gulp of water. Nick notices that Ian's hands are rough and blistered.

"Then what is it?" Nick asks, trying to hide his disgust.

But Ian doesn't get to answer Nick's question. He suddenly begins to cough more, and then begins to choke. His body begins to shake and Morgan frantically leaves the room to fetch a nurse. Nick suddenly turns to stone, his feet glued to the ground. His mouth gapes open as he hears Ian's heart rate monitor beep continuously. Amidst his choking, Nick swears he can hear Ian laugh. A nurse finally comes in followed by Morgan, but by that time it's too late.

"What the hell could have caused this?" Morgan says as the monitor flat lines.

Nick looks to the glass of water and then back at Ian's lifeless body.


	9. Chapter 9

NOTE: Do not own CSI/Criminal Minds. Do own Mary (who is actually based on me.) The "Buffalo Bill" reference for those who don't know/can't remember is from "Silence of the Lambs" and that's because I just watched it yesterday. XD Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"_What_ happened?" Sara asks in near disbelief as Nick and Morgan enter the conference room with the news of Ian's death.

"We're thinking someone slipped something in his water to poison him before he said anything about his burial," Nick elaborates. Morgan walks over to the coffee pot, raising a cup to Nick, who nods back as he sits down. "I sent a sample to Henry and we'll know more after the autopsy,"

"What strikes me as odd is he seemed to be happy that this happened to him. He was on the verge of telling us why this happened, but before he could he died," Morgan adds as he starts the pot for more coffee. Rossi snaps his fingers in the air and gestures that he wants a cup too.

"Well, that's going to be a shock for Tommy and Jessica. They both headed for the hospital after we talked to them," Prentiss says.

"Maybe this will make them reconsider about telling us what happened," Hotch proposes. "Tommy is definitely holding back information and Jessica is lying to us,"

"Lying about what?" Catherine asks.

"Her aunt found a shovel in her bedroom closet. She claims she took it away from Ian, but I think she's lying," Prentiss replies. "She did say that we could take the shovel and print it, though,"

There is a short silence and the CSIs look at Greg. The coffee pot beeps to signal that it is ready for drinking.

"I'll get it," Greg says, sensing that his co-workers want him to run the errand.

"I'll come keep you company, maybe we can find other things in Jessica's room," Rossi adds, and the two leave the group after Rossi retrieves his cup of coffee.

"Well we know that Jessica and Tommy didn't kill the other victim, because we flipped that house upside down and didn't find a gun anywhere," Langston says.

"Did you check the desert?" Nick asks him as Morgan gives him his cup of coffee before sitting down himself. "Hell maybe they dug another hole and buried the gun with it,"

"I doubt that a teenage girl like Jessica could have killed that girl single-handedly, though, even with Tommy's help. Even if they claim not to know the second victim, taking a life is a big deal and they would be far more mentally unstable," Sara notes.

"Not necessarily, we've seen unsubs of different ages and genders that weren't affected when they murdered someone," Reid informs them. "Did you know that over-"

"Whatever the case, we're back to square one. Maybe if we figure out more about the victims we can figure out more about the unsub," Hotch interrupts Reid, who closed his mouth the minute Hotch started talking.

"I'll call Garcia and see what we can dig up," Morgan says, taking out his phone and pressing his speed-dial.

"CSI Stokes, you have a visitor in the lobby. CSI Stokes, you have a visitor in the lobby," the PA suddenly says.

Everyone looks up at the PA as if questioning its sudden request for Nick Stokes. Either way Nick rises from his chair to go see his "visitor." The last time he got that announcement it was victim services and it was for a case. But the time before that, it was his kidnapper's daughter.

Nick walks into the lobby and finds a teenage girl, about seventeen years old standing at the desk, arguing with the receptionist. She has short brown hair with red and blonde highlights. Her glasses have smudges on them. She has small red bite-like wounds on her legs and arms, some of which are fading into her skin. She is a little bit on the heavier side, probably a good size for Buffalo Bill. She is wearing camouflage capris and a skeleton head t-shirt. Her fingernails are filled with dirt, and her hands are gloved with dirt. She has dirt on her clothes, and some on her face. Her knuckles are red and seem to be slightly bleeding.

"I don't need medical attention, I need to deliver this letter to Nick Stokes. I am fine," the girl snarls at Judy, the receptionist.

"No, you are not," Judy tells her just as firmly.

Nick notices that the girl is shaking and is scratching her bites. The bites seem to be spider bites or mosquito bites, which is not uncommon in Nevada. Her eyes are twitching and she can't seem to stand still.

"Are you Nick Stokes?" the girl asks, turning away from Judy.

"Yeah, I am," Nick replies. "I don't think we've met...?"

"My name is M-Mary," Mary stutters. Her attitude has changed from hostility to nervousness.

"Why don't you come to my office, I'm sure you'll be much more comfortable and maybe I can get you a glass of water," Nick offers.

Mary nods and follows Nick to his office. He sits her in a chair across his desk and runs into the break room for a bottle of water.

"Interesting office," Mary mutters when Nick gives her the water. "You the boss here or somethin'?"

"Assistant Supervisor," Nick tells her, noticing she wasn't able to concentrate on his name plate, which has that title. "I heard you saying that you have a letter for me?"

Mary hands him the letter with a shaking hand. He is sitting on the same side of the desk as her, in a chair right next to her. He doesn't want her to feel like she's in the dean's office.

"Who gave you this letter?" Nick asks, not opening it quite yet. He wants to keep an eye on Mary. It probably would have helped to have one of the profilers with him to observe her behavior...

"I-I can't rem-remember her name, but I-I know her, I do," Mary stutters again. She looks like she's going to cry from the pain of trying to remember something like that, but then her attitude changes again.

"She saved me, though. She opened the lid and got me out of the coffin," Mary tells him in a more calm, but dark tone. She even cracks a small smile, but then it fades. "But then...Then I saw their bodies...They were drenched in blood. Gunsh..." Mary tells him in a very disgusted, tormented tone. She isn't sobbing, but there are definitely tears developing in her eyes.

"They were my best friends. A...Amy and Lisa..." Mary tells him, and then she begins to sob.

"Where are they, Mary?" Nick asks softly. "Where were you-Where did you come from?"

"I...I don't know," Mary replies, no longer sobbing. She's back in her grim calm state. "I was told to come here and give the letter to Nick Stokes, and so I did...There was this path in my mind I took and all I remember is that path...I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry,"

"No, it's okay, Mary, it's okay," Nick comforts her, grabbing one of her shaking hands. "Everything is going to be all right,"

"No it's not," Mary growls at him, but still allows him to hold her hand. She then twitches, not just her eyes, but something in her body sent a jolt through every moveable body part. "I'm sorry, I'm-I'm trying to be calm, I really am,"

"Mary, how about we go to the hospital and get you checked out?" Nick tells her, not letting go of her hand and she uses her other to drink more water. "I promise I won't check you into a room or anything, but I just want to see if there's anything we can do to calm you down, okay? And maybe then you can take me on that path, okay?"

Mary looks at him. Her brown eyes are clouded in tears. She nods.

"Okay...C'mon, let's go," Nick says to her in a soft tone. He puts his arm around her shoulder, as if he is leading her away from the crime scene. But technically he was. He saw it in her eyes. She was thinking about her fallen friends the whole time she was sitting in that chair.

He takes the long way to the garage and passes by the conference room.

"Guys, there's another scene," Nick informs them as he hands them a letter. "This girl, Mary, just gave me a letter from the person who dug her up,"

"Where's the scene?" Catherine asks as Hotch takes the letter.

"I don't know. I'm going to get Mary checked out and then she's going to lead me there," Nick tells them. Catherine gives him a "Are you sure you're up to this" look, which Nick returns with a "yes, _Mom_, I'm fine" look.

"Let us know when you get there," JJ tells Nick, who was obviously sensing the tension between Catherine and her assistant.

Nick nods and leads Mary to his car and puts her in the passenger seat. He lets go of her hand and it draws itself to the other hand. Both are still shaking as if they are going to explode. Her breathing is becoming more and more shallow, almost hyperventilating. Nick buckles her in and jogs quickly to the driver's side. The sooner they can get to the hospital and get her checked out the better. Right now he could care less about the new crime scene; the victims are dead anyway. This victim is living and needs help, maybe not physically but mentally, and maybe a doctor can give her something to help her, or maybe she can have a talk with someone who can help her...

But Nick has a feeling he's the only one who can help her at this point.


	10. Chapter 10

Don't own CSI/Criminal Minds. Mary is my creation as well as Amy and Lisa, even though they are actually my friends in real life. The song used in the car is "Afterlife" by Avenged Sevenfold, which if you ask me does actually fit pretty well. I may use more of their songs in the next couple chapters, may not. Until the next update, please enjoy. :)

* * *

Mary was quiet at the beginning of their journey to the hospital. Nick put the radio on a low volume, but he knew that neither of them are listening.

"Mr. Stokes-" Mary suddenly says.

"Please, Mary, call me Nick,"

"Uhm, okay...Nick...I-I think I remember how I got in that coffin..."

_The air conditioner softly blows at her face as she stares out the window. Her favorite song is on the radio, but she doesn't feel like singing. Hell, she doesn't even feel like talking. Maybe taking two car sickness pills was a bad idea..._

_"I don't belong here, we gotta move on, dear! Escape from this afterlife! Because this time I'm right, to move on and on far away from here!" Amy belts out with the chorus to the song. "Got nothing against you, and surely I'll miss you, this place full of peace and light, and I hope you might take me back inside when the time is right!"_

_"Are you okay, Mary? Isn't this your favorite Avenged Sevenfold song?" Lisa asks, turning around to face her friend. _

_"Loved ones back home all crying 'cause they're already missing me..." the song continues._

_"I'm fine," she forces out. She suddenly feels cold. "Think you can turn down the A/C?"_

_"This is the only cold air you're going to be getting for a while, don't you want to savor it?" Amy comments as the song continues. _

_"Oh, I'll be fine," Mary shrugs off. "I got my iPod. Besides, I'm ready,"_

_"I need another chance to live..."_ the song sings as it goes into its guitar solo.

"I wasn't ready," Mary's voice cracks. She looks out the window again and every person is turning into them. "I-I know this sounds sick, Nick. But I remember that I...I was trained for this. I just don't remember how, where, when and why..."

"It'll come back in time," Nick tells her. "And when it does, I'll be there to listen,"

Mary nods again and falls silent. At a red light, he takes a quick look at her, and sensing that he is looking at her, she looks back at him. He gives her a soft smile to reassure her, and she just nods again and continues to stare blankly out the window.

Nick agrees with her, though. Being trained to lie in a coffin underground is sick. Nick is hoping that it was some kind of kidnapping and hypnotism, but he has a feeling it's not. But that shouldn't stop him from helping this girl. That last thing she needs right now is for someone to look at her the wrong way or say the wrong thing. She needs confidence and comfort. She needs to be told she's no longer in that coffin, that's she's safe and alive...

"Nick," Mary suddenly says as they come up to the hospital. "That letter...what did it say?"

"I didn't get to read it," Nick tells her as he parks his car. "But you'll be the first to know when I do,"

"How's it going?" JJ asks Nick as she sits down next to him.

"Catherine send you?" Nick asks with a twisted smirk.

"No," JJ replies with a smile. "Morgan isn't the only one who noticed something is up with you, just sayin'. Also, I thought you might need help taking Mary back to the crime scene. Have you ever heard of a cognitive interview?"

"Yeah, I've heard of it," Nick replies. "Is that what we're going to do?"

"Yes. It'll give us a better chance of getting to the scene."

The doctor who was checking out Mary comes into view, and Nick stands up, eager to hear what she has to say.

"Well, she's having severe post-traumatic stress, but I'm pretty sure you've deduced that already. Other than that, there's no visible injuries, no signs of sexual trauma. The PTSD has caused memory loss and mood swings. The best thing you can do right now is be there for her. I don't want her on any medication. She's still in the room washing up a little," the doctor says. Nick thanks her and she walks away.

Mary comes out in another minute or so, the dirt washed off of her face and hands. Her knuckles are still red, but no longer bleeding.

"Mary, this is Jennifer Jareau with the FBI. She's going to help us," Nick introduces.

Mary just nods at JJ, who is smiling at her in a motherly way.

"You can just call me JJ," JJ tells her.

"Do you want to get something to eat or drink before we go on the path, Mary?" Nick offers as he leads her to the car. She shakes her head. Nick knows she doesn't have the stomach to eat at the moment. After putting her in the back seat, he grabs another bottle of water he got from a vending machine in the hospital for her. He holds it out for her and she accepts, even though she claimed that she didn't want anything to eat or drink.

There isn't much conversation on the way back to the lab. JJ and Nick obviously didn't want to talk about the case in front of Mary, especially with her being a victim herself.

Nick pulls into the garage and takes helps Mary out of the car again. They all walk to the front of the building, and Nick still grasps her hand.

"Okay, Mary, we're going to go on that path that you took. I want you to think back to exactly what you were feeling on the way here. Any smells, what you touched, what you saw, anything you encountered on this path. I know it's going to be painful, but it will help you remember how you got here, do you understand?" JJ tells Mary. She nods.

"At any time you feel uncomfortable, you squeeze Nick's hand as hard as you can, okay?" JJ adds. Mary nods again, already looking forward. Her face is blank, and both JJ and Nick know that she is seeing the path she took.

She can see her footsteps. They're glowing bright green. Every other color has faded, even into black and white. She can hear her own breathing as she walks. She can hear her breaths echo slightly and is shuddering in and out. Any outside sounds such as cars or people talking are being overlaid with an eerie silence. Although she is walking normal speed, she feels as if she is underwater...

"Are you doing okay, Mary?" Nick's voice waves in. She forces her head to turn and look up at him. He has brown eyes. The brown is a medium brown, like the color of the dirt she was surrounded in...

His hair is also brown, but it's so dark it looks like its black. It's dark like the darkness that she was engulfed in while she laid in her coffin...

Something seems to be wrapping around her throat, binding tighter and tighter every time she takes a breath.

His hands are rough. Man's hands. He seems to have a lot of muscle. Strong...strong enough to carry bodies into their graves...

"Mary? Is something wrong?" Nick's voice waves in again. His voice sounds muffled, as if there's a cloth on his mouth. Or maybe her ears are clogged...

She squeezes his hand tightly, unable to say words. When he squeezes back she lets out a gasp for air.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I felt like I couldn't breathe...Sorry,"

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault you couldn't breathe," Nick chuckles. "Do you need something to drink?"

Mary shakes her head, still gasping for air.

"No...no, let's keep going...Wh-where are we?"

"We just left the city," JJ informs her. "We've been walking for at least an hour, hour and a half,"

Mary nods and continues walking, her footsteps lighting up once again as the rest of the surroundings fade into nothing.


	11. Chapter 11

Do not own CSI/CriMi. I know this chapter's a little short, but I wanted to end it the way I did until the next update. Sonic is (c) Sega and Silent Hill 2 is (c) Konami.

* * *

Greg opens the door to Jessica's room, which had been partially closed. He turns on the light to find the room unbelievably clean. He remembers that during his teenage years, his room didn't have a floor. It was strewn with magazines and clothes. The walls had been covered with band and movie posters. He did have books...under his bed...mostly comic books...and porn. He had a stereo right next to his bed, and his CD collection took up most of the corner.

"This room is unnaturally tidy. It seems like she doesn't spend much time in here at all," Rossi comments. "Totally different from the normal teenager's room,"

"Well I've noticed that the teenagers we're dealing with aren't really normal," Greg replies. He finds the closet is right across the door and notices that it's open. There are drag marks on the carpet leading out the room. Greg walks over and notices that the shovel is missing.

* * *

"We still doing good, Mary?" Nick asks Mary as they continue to travel on a rural road. The sun is finally beginning to rise, but it's taking its time. Both Nick and JJ are using flashlights (Nick had brought his backup for JJ) until it is bright enough to see. Mary is starting to get a little fatigued. Nick is surprised she's made it this far. They have been walking for a good couple hours and they've only taken two breaks.

Suddenly they reach a four-way stop. Mary stops.

"No, we're not," she answers in her sour tone. "I...I don't remember which way I came..."

"Were you listening to your iPod?" JJ asks, noticing the ear bud that is falling out of her pocket. Mary's attitude changes back to her calm state.

"Yeah...Yeah I was," she mutters.

"Do you remember what song was playing while you were walking?" JJ asks.

She lets go of Nick's hand and puts her headphones in and turns her iPod on. She scrolls through all 533 songs on her iPod for the one she listened to when she reached the crossroad...

_"_'True' from a video game called Silent Hill 2...That's what I listening to," Mary mutters as she comes across its name. She smiles as she remembers the mentioned video game. It's one of her favorite games of all time. But the smile fades when she begins to listen to the song. The song was used in the game when the main character found out the devastating truth he was searching for the whole game. When she listened to it on full blast as she caught her breath at the four-way stop, she began to feel the devastating truth that she was running away from. Their bodies wouldn't leave her mind, and when they finally did, she found her way to the city.

But right now she can see their bodies again...She can hear their voices...

"Mary," JJ says. "Mary, wherever you are right now, you're not there. Open your eyes,"

Mary does so, and the tears she was holding back slide down her cheeks faster than Sonic the hedgehog.

"At the end of the song," Mary speaks, fast forwarding the song to the last 30 seconds. "My mind cleared up and I was able to see the path again..."

And just like before, the path lights up again in her mind. She puts away her iPod and takes Nick's hand again, leading them to the right. They continue down the road for a while. Mary has lost all sense of time, but judging by the rising sun it seems live they've been walking for an hour or two.

Finally they arrive to their destination. It was an old plant nursery that had been closed down for some reason nearly five years ago. Mary remembers coming here when she was about seven. The sign is beaten because of the storms and strong winds that have occurred over the years since the nursery's closure, but if you've been there before you still know the name.

"Flora Nevada Nursery," Nick mutters out loud, squeezing Mary's hand.


	12. Chapter 12

Well finished this chapter faster than I had thought. Don't worry, I'll be going back to the other characters in the next chapter. If this seems a little rushed or not enough in anyway, I apologize. Song in flashback is "Nightmare" by Avenged Sevenfold. Do not own CSI/Criminal Minds.

* * *

The plant nursery has become a weed and fire ant mound nursery over the years. The rows of plants have either sustained existence or died a slow, droopy death. Weeds have begun to sprout up as if it were acne on a face of dirt. Ants have migrated and expanded their empire since their walls had been torn down when the nursery was abandoned. Even though the sun is rising, there seems to be darkness shrouding the nursery, reminding Nick of his experience five years ago yet again...

"Something wrong, Nick?" JJ asks Nick as they begin to walk through the maze of plants.

"No...we, uh, there was a case here where one of our team got...kidnapped and he was held here...underground...and when the-we came to rescue him, there was an explosion because the coffin was booby trapped. He made it out alive, because our old boss managed to delay the bomb from going off by putting 200 pounds of dirt in the coffin as they pulled him out. I guess this place closed shortly after..." Nick explains, knowing that he can't hide his obvious discomfort with this case.

"Does this member from your team happen to like to refer to himself in third person?" JJ asks. Nick laughs. Mary seems to be getting faster, and both Nick and JJ give each other weird looks.

"What do you see, Mary?" JJ asks.

"Gotta...gotta get help...they're still alive..." Mary begins to repeat over and over. She isn't running back the way they came, but maybe she's voicing the thoughts she was thinking when she began her journey to the lab?

Then Nick smells it in the air. He grimaces as Mary breaks free of his hand and begins bolting ahead.

"MARY!" Nick shouts, chasing after her. JJ follows, her flashlight lighting the narrow dirt path they are taking to what is most likely the crime scene. Nick holds up his own flashlight and the beams spotlight two bodies that are lying on the ground in the distance...

"Oh my God...No...NO!" she sobs, sliding on the ground, skinning her knees to one of the bodies. She shakes her, despite the blood pool the body is lying in and the fire ants feasting on the deceased.

"Mary," JJ says, putting her hand on Mary's shoulder. "Mary, don't, the ants will eat you alive,"

"NO! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Mary shouts, slapping JJ's hand away as she continues to sob over her fallen friends.

One of them, the one Mary is grasping, has a ponytail in her frizzy blonde hair. She seems taller than Mary and the other body. She's wearing a marching band t-shirt, and Nick recognizes the high school from around the area. She is wearing sandals and knee-high piano key socks. Her shorts are short sport shorts. She seems to be fit, probably due to marching band. She has a bullet hole to her two shoulders. The way the blood pools have expanded make it look like she has wings...well, blood filled wings.

The other friend is also blonde, but her hair is straight. She is wearing a t-shirt for a college Nick also recognizes from around the area. She is wearing jeans and gym shoes, but the jeans are ripped because there is a bullet in both her knees. Her skin is pale and her eyes are open, unlike the other body, who's eyes were closed.

Nick doesn't dwell on how painful these deaths were or what they must have felt in their last breaths. He normally does think of those things, but for some reason he isn't tonight. At least not with these victims. He's picturing how Mary must have felt when she got out of the coffin and saw her deceased friends.

Nick doesn't try to calm Mary down verbally. He grabs both of Mary's shoulders, almost having to pry her fingers from grabbing her friend's t-shirt. He drags her away from the bodies while she sobs, almost hysterically.

"It's okay, honey, just look away, don't think about them right now," Nick comforts her, taking her slowly away from the scene, not just for her sanity but his. There are two holes near the body, one of which Mary was obviously buried in.

"I-I remember...I remember it, Nick...Being in the coffin...He-hearing the gunshots...I-I panicked..."

* * *

_BANG-BANG! BANG-BANG!_

_"And I know you hear their voices/ Calling from above/ And I know they may seem real, these signals of love..."_

_"AMY? LISA?" Mary screams, pulling the little rope in her coffin that would ring a bell above ground signaling she needed to come out. Although the hole is four feet deep, they only filled it about a foot in case something like this happened. She heard the four loud 'bangs' and new they weren't part of the song._

_There is no answer. If they heard it, the bell would have stopped because one of them would have grabbed it and then pulled the rope up to signal that they are coming..._

_"MARY! HELP!" their voices scream, but it's as if they are right next to her..._

_"But our life's made up of choices/ Some without appeal/ They took for granted your soul/ And it's ours now to steal..."_

_The string is pulled up slowly as Mary continues to grasp it, a new wave of emotion wrapping around her. Fear. She had been fine buried alive up until hearing her friend's screams. She begins to pound on the box relentlessly, and she can feel the pain in her knuckles as she forces them into the durable glass that had previously been cleaned but is now scratched and almost beginning to crack. She lets out a scream of her own, suddenly feeling a large amount of discomfort that had previously been masked by pleasure from her premature burial..._

_"As your nightmare comes to life..."_

* * *

"Don't think about it right now, sweetie," Nick soothes her. Mary had began pounding on Nick's chest and screaming, as if she were still in the coffin. JJ is calling the teams to tell them where they are. "You're not in the coffin anymore, you're safe, it's okay,"

But Nick notices that her screams seem to be ones of constant pain, pain that spikes up and then settles down only to spike up again. Nick recognizes this pattern of pain. He suddenly notices that there are a bunch of fire ants crawling on her skin, and also his. He brushes off the ones on her as he tries not to cry out from the ones biting him. He can feel tears burning down his face since he has to hold back screams. The ants seem to just scurry back to the other feast instead of battle Mary and Nick. Mary continues to cry, but her screams have died down. Nick continues to hold her as he gives a pained look to JJ, who is talking on the phone with someone.

"Yeah, Nick said that the-ouch-CSI's worked a caaaaaaaaaaase here. Ouch! You might want to bring something for the fire aaaaaaaants," JJ is saying, talking through her teeth with pain. JJ seems to also have fallen victim to the fire ants. She brushes them off, wincing at the new red sores on her arms. As she finishes her conversation, she begins to scratch at the bites, which itch like a mosquito bite.

"Don't do that, they'll just get worse," Nick tells her, remembering his mentor's words.


	13. Chapter 13

Do not own CriMi/CSI. Look for my little note at the bottom because I did not want to spoil the chapter up here. XD

* * *

Catherine, Langston, Hotch and Prentiss soon arrived with a patrol car and David Phillips, the assistant coroner. Catherine tossed Nick two creams for the ant bites and one to JJ. Mary has now gone into a near catatonic state, but Nick is still holding her in his arms.

"Nick, go take Mary home to get fresh clothes and then take her to the station so Brass can get her official statement. The rest of the group is still at the lab, going over the victims," Catherine tells Nick. But both she and Nick know that what she's really saying is "Get the hell out of here because I know this is hard for you to handle."

She tosses him the keys to his SUV. She must have had this planned out from the moment she heard the location of the crime scene. He leads Mary to the car and puts her in the passenger seat and leaves the scene.

"So one hole was for Mary and the other was for the writer of the letter?" Prentiss remarks as she absorbs the scene in her mind. They all read the letter out loud. Only minutes after reading it they were sent a gun to compare with the bullets found in the bodies. The gun had fingerprints on it, that made a match to a weapon in a previous homicide case, confirming the identity of the person who wrote the letter.

But it also may exonerate her, depending on what type of bullets are found in the body. But until then she is still a suspect, even though the other hole suggest she may also be a victim.

"The one Mary was buried in has scratch marks, unlike the other coffins," Hotch notes.

"She said that she heard gunshots followed by her friend's screams and began to panic," JJ informs them. "She rung that bell and our suspect must have heard her,"

"But why save Mary if she is the one who killed her best friends?" Langston asks. "If she was on a killing spree, why not leave Mary to die or kill her with the gun?"

"Because she sent Mary to send a letter explaining that she didn't kill Amy and Lisa and proceeded to send the evidence that would potentially prove that," Catherine replies.

"Well, Mary isn't stupid. She would have confronted her savior, even if she was grateful. And I've seen how quickly Mary can get angry and how angry she can get. And she may be able to get worse. And Mary wouldn't have given us that letter if our suspect was the killer," JJ says, feeling like she's protecting Mary at the moment.

"But Mary was just pulled out of a coffin. She just saw her two best friends' corpses and may have been forced to deliver that letter by being hypnotized by the barrel of a gun. Again, under pressure people will do almost anything," Hotch brings up, trying to look at the logical side of things. "And her mind may be bending the truth in her words,"

"We'll know more once we get Mary's story and once the autopsies are done on our victims," Prentiss says, breaking the developing tension.

"Uhm, I hate to interrupt, but I kinda need help. Nick usually helps me with the bodies," David suddenly says, and Hotch assists him in loading the bodies into the van heading straight to the morgue.

"You know, Catherine, I could have gone instead of Nick," Langston says as he takes pictures of the graves.

"Well, you know, Ray, I didn't ask for volunteers, did I?" Catherine replies in the nicest way she could.

* * *

"Talk to me, baby girl," Morgan answers his phone, putting it on speaker.

"Hello, there, Tweet Kissy-Tiger Twinkies," Garcia replies.

Reid and Sara smile and hold back their laughter as Morgan looks confused.

"Where did _that_ come from?" Morgan asks her, turning slightly red.

"I was playing with an online generator earlier and I just found it on my screen again," Garcia explains. "Oh, this is funny, Reid's pet-name would be 'Tweet Red-hot-Pookie pie,'"

Morgan bursts out into laughter as Reid turns beet red.

"Try 'Nick Stokes,'" Sara says, smiling. When Morgan had talked to Garcia earlier, she seemed like a female Greg and immediately warmed up to her, even though she was only on the phone.

"'Kissable Hot-Lover,'" Garcia informs them. They all begin to laugh.

"Hey, it's true, though," Nick says as he walks in, smiling himself. "Who's on the phone?"

"Oh, it's just Garcia. She's our tech analyst," Morgan explains. "Speaking of which, what do you got?"

"Well, other than your victims are all in their teen years and the crimes were similar, there's not much connecting them. Some of them live in other cities, and two of them don't even live in Nevada," Garcia notifies them.

"So our unsub's not choosing them based on appearance nor location...Maybe personality?" Reid says.

"Garcia, can you check if they have any social networking sites and see if there's a person they all have in common?" Morgan requests.

"One step ahead of you," Garcia replies. "I got zip. Believe me, babe, I checked _everything_ and there's nothing connecting them, again other than their ages and crimes. I'll keep checking though, maybe they have friends of friends in common,"

"I expect no less of you, baby, thanks," Morgan says and hangs up.

"Where've you been?" Sara asks Nick as he sits down.

"Well, after the nursery I took Mary to her house and she changed and then I took her to the station for Brass to help her write down what happened," Nick tells them. "Anything else been going on here?"

"Well, toxicology report came back on Ian, it was Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid," Sara tells him.

"A date rape drug?"

"It was a fairly large dosage," Morgan inputs. "I went back to the hospital and asked the nurse if anybody else had visited Ian. She said she doesn't know,"

"They really should put cameras in some of those hospital rooms," Nick sighs. "The one place that you wouldn't want them, you need them...What about that letter?"

Reid passes the letter to Nick.

_Hello, Nick. I know that by the time you get this letter it could be many hours, days, or even weeks after the subject matter. For both our sakes I hope it's only hours. Poor Mary is not in the best mental or physical state and if it weren't for the obvious, I would have delivered this myself. _

_As you will see because I'm sure Mary will lead you to the crime scene, Mary has fallen victim to the grave ritual. I am obviously the other victim because you are more than smart enough to notice that neither Amy nor Lisa had been entombed underground._

_Speaking of Amy and Lisa, please tell Mary when she's feeling better I offer my condolences. I didn't expect it to happen and neither did she. I know you are not going to believe me when I tell you (well, write you) that I did not commit the gruesome murders of two innocent teenagers. Therefore, I am sending the gun that I hold in my possession to cross me off of the suspect list. It also should help build evidence on some previous cases I know have caused you to stay up for many long nights. _

_Although I'm sure there are other things causing you to stay up those endless nights. You've obviously noticed that the location of your new crime scene is not random...at least it doesn't seem that way, right? _

_I know things about you, Nick. I know a lot of things about you and I want you to know that I am truly sorry for the things that have happened to you. Nobody should have to go through some of the things you've seen and done. Then again, I am a person who causes those things so I really shouldn't be saying that, should I?_

Nick can hear her menacing chuckle and can see her vicious smile. His whole body twitches as a shudder slivers down his spine slower than ever.

_I guess I should let you get back to the case. One day I hope we get the chance to meet face to face yet again. The only thing I have of you is memories...and more, but I don't want to ruin my fun just yet. _

_Again, I really should let you get back to your case. Tell Greg, David, and Henry that I say 'hello.' _

_Sincerely, _

_Veronica_

* * *

I know it is entirely unrealisitc for Garcia, Morgan, Prentiss, Sara and Nick to joke around like that but I felt that I needed to put some sort of comic relief in the story and that was the perfect opportunity. The name generator is something a friend of mine (Lisa, actually) found when helping me with names for Garcia to call Morgan. XD

As for Veronica, for those who don't know, she is in my story "Veronica" and "Controlled Chaos." This chapter and the next will probably be the only chapters that feature her prominently, but if you like her I suggest you read those mentioned stories. :)

Hope you enjoyed the update!


	14. Chapter 14

Do not own CSI/Criminal Minds. I know I've been a little Nick-oriented lately, but that will be stopping in the next chapter and again in more. This is my first fan-ficiton writing with two teams and I'm just a little too used to writing about Nick, I guess. XD Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"There was another note with the gun," Morgan says. "All it said was 'P.S, how are Jessica and Tommy?'"

"So she knows Jessica and Tommy...There's one connection," Nick says, looking from reading the letter about three times already.

"Yeah, but we don't know about the other victims. And even if Veronica does know them, she isn't going to exactly come to us any time soon," Sara notes.

Nick stands up and sighs.

"Well, I made a promise to Mary I'd tell her what the letter was about. And maybe she'll remember something when she reads it," Nick tells them.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go talk to her? You've been with her for the half of the night-" Reid suggests.

"No," Nick says firmly. "I'm the only person she probably trusts right now besides JJ, and believe me, she needs that trust right now,"

Nick leaves without caring if anybody answers or protests to him and heads straight for the police department, where Mary is sitting in an interrogation room filling out a written account of what happened. Brass is observing her from the two-way mirror.

"I normally don't get to talk to the victims that are alive," he tells Nick in a sad voice. "I normally deal with suspects and killers,"

"Where's April? Isn't she the victim services person?" Nick asks with his hand on the door knob.

"She works days, remember? And besides, she's on vacation, believe me, I checked," Brass tells him. "So this girl walked all the way from the nursery?"

Mary is slowly filling out the form, pausing every so often and putting the tip of her pen in her mouth, probably trying to remember what happened.

"Yeah," Nick replies grimly. "Factor in her mental and physical state and she could have been walking for days, even,"

"I'm going to call her parents," Brass tells him, and walks away. Nick knows that he is probably going to sneak a sip of the alcohol he keeps in the drawer of his desk after the call.

Nick opens the door and enters the room.

"Hi, Mary," Nick greets her as he sits down. She has only filled out one line of the report. "I take it it's not going so well?"

Mary shakes her head, putting the pen down and putting her head in her hands. She is now wearing a t-shirt for her favorite crime drama on TV and a pair of jeans, claiming she feels cold. Her parents weren't home when Nick drove her over there and she explained that they were on vacation in Florida for a cousin's wedding. They had allowed her to stay at home, knowing that if she went to the wedding she would get stuck babysitting while everyone went out and did "adult stuff." She told Nick how she was surprised she was left home alone, but doubts they'll do such ever again.

"I read the letter you delivered to me," Nick tells her. "Actually, I brought it so you could read it yourself,"

He offers the letter to Mary, who takes it and spends about ten minutes reading it. Nick notices her squinting through her glasses and constantly glancing aside with a pained look, as if it's torture for her to read the letter. Then all emotion disappears once she's done and she hands Nick the letter back.

"I remember Veronica," Mary says in a monotone voice. "She got me out of the box. I don't know how, but she must have been dug up or something because there was no dirt on her at all. At first, I was so pissed at her because I thought she killed Amy and Lisa..."

She has a grim smile on her face, remembering her evident and understandable violence at her friend.

"But she explained to me that she didn't do it, and gave me that letter. She told me that if she had killed Amy and Lisa she would have left me to die in that coffin, but she didn't..."

_"Anyway you like, you're gonna die here..."_

Nick twitches as Mary continues, not noticing the twitch.

"So then I began running, and got lost in the nursery because I was so panicked...I also got lost in the city and the roads...It seemed like days before I arrived here," Mary finishes.

"We think it was," Nick tells her. "Do you remember anything else about Veronica?"

Mary closes her eyes and leans back in the chair, stretching her arms.

"No...Just that she is a friend of mine," she replies as she puts her head in her hands again. Nick can see that tears are beginning to drip onto the table.

"Listen, Mary, I...I know what you're going through," Nick begins. She looks up at him with watery eyes, willing to listen but Nick can tell she is fighting back to say "no you don't."

"You're not alone, and that's possibly the one thing you need to tell yourself to make all the pain stop, at least for the time being. Don't worry what you're going to tell your parents, don't worry what you're going to do without your friends, don't worry about anything. Use all that hate, all that anger, all those negative feelings about what happened and turn them into fuel," Nick advises. Mary continues to stare at him, with a more understanding look rather than a furious one. He takes out one of his cards and hands it to her.

"If you _ever_ need anything, you call me," Nick tells her. "I'll be there for you, no matter where either of us are, okay?"

Mary nods through her continuing tears and accepts the card. Nick stands up, knowing he should leave Mary to her thoughts, as much as he doesn't want to. He is surprised to see Langston standing outside the interrogation room, waiting for him.

"We need to talk, Nick," Langston tells him.

"Let's go to my office," Nick says, confused as to why Langston is suddenly so fierce and determined to know something that evidently pertains to Nick.

As they enter his office, Langston closes the door.

"What's going on with you, Nick? You've been acting weird, you've been snapping at people, you couldn't stay at the nursery and Catherine snapped at me, you puked after we examined the coffins-" Langston begins in a fast speed.

"You weren't here five years ago," Nick realizes, interrupting Langston's rant. He sighs and gesture for Ray to sit down. "Five years ago, I was kidnapped and held for a ransom. I woke up two times after being drugged by my kidnapper. The first time I woke up in a truck. The second time I woke up in a coffin made of Plexiglas somewhere under the earth. I was given a recorded message telling me that my job put me in that box and that I should just kill myself with a provided gun to avoid the pain of dying. I was given a couple of glow sticks to see that dirt surrounded me. There were two fans and a light. Every time the team pressed a button on a flash drive they received that held the ransom note, the light would turn on and the fan would stop. The team would see me on a webcam feed while they had twelve hours to obtain the ransom.

"But after those twelve hours, the kidnapper committed suicide. I contemplated it, not knowing the team was the one controlling the light. Instead of pulling the trigger of the gun while it was aimed at my face, I shot the light, which had been consuming the fan's battery. It helped majorly until the box began to crack as a result of the shooting...and then the fire ants began to..."

Nick twitches again, balling his hands into fists as he feels the burning sensation again.

"Grissom was able to identify the type of ant and where it would be located in Nevada and that, combined with an estimation of the webcam trace, led the team to my location. Before that, though, they had found a prototype box and found explosives under the box. The team realized that the minute I got out of the box, it would explode.

"So, Grissom managed to calm me down enough to where he could talk to me and I could understand him. He explained the situation to me and made me promise that I wouldn't sit up...and then told me he had a plan and attached a rope to my belt, which the whole team held while 200 pounds of dirt was poured on me to equalize the weight as they pulled me out of the box...which did explode,"

Langston's expression of annoyance and anger has faded away and is now a more sympathetic and sad one. Nick remembers this emotion from that night in the locker room...

"Since then, I've gotten over it. I thank God every day that I survived, and I haven't wasted this second chance on anything, even when the nightmares were at their worst a couple months later...But now, I'm getting those nightmares again, Ray...But the thing is, I don't even have to be sleeping for those nightmares anymore. All I have to do is close my eyes..." Nick tells him, realizing just how affected he is by this case at the moment.

"And this is why you're so attracted to Mary," Langston also realizes. He stands up, not sure what to do or say at the moment. "Thanks, Nick,"

"For what?" Nick asks, holding back his own tears as he thinks what that poor little girl could possibly be going through.

"For telling me what's going on," Langston replies.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks him.

"I'm positive. With Ian dead they're going to want to talk to us, and I want to do this at least once before that happens," he replies, digging as fast as he can. He finally hits the spot and begins to dig the other end of his buried treasure.

"Veronica's letter is sure to have reached them by now," she says in a worried tone.

"Quit worrying about it, we got time. They have no idea where we are," he tells her, touching her foot as a substitute of her hand or face. He then goes back to digging.

"Remember, don't fill the whole all the way. Go and hide in the tool shed until I ring the bell, okay?" he reminds her as he hands her the shovel.

"I love you, Tommy,"

"I love you, too, Jessica,"


	15. Chapter 15

Do not own CSI/Criminal Minds. I know this is kinda short, but this is more of a filler. Now that the latest plot twist is put into place, this should be smoother to read and write. :D

* * *

The moon has now fulfilled its shift and clocked out of the sky. The sun has bled through the canvas, its beams shining brightly on Tommy Baker's home.

According to the CSIs, Tommy's brother had been put in jail and once their mother sobered up, Tommy returned home. Tommy's mother promised to get help and she has...even though she isn't home. So either she's getting help and is out working or she is drunk and unconscious on a street corner...or someone's bed...or she's in the morgue as a Jane Doe...

Wherever and whatever happened to Tommy's mother is of no concern to Morgan right now. Greg and Rossi flipped Jessica's room upside down and there were no signs of a shovel. Reid checked the hospital and neither Jessica nor Tommy signed in to visit Ian, let alone anybody. Nick is talking to Mary again to see if she remembers Tommy or Jessica, but so far no luck as far as they know.

Sara rings the doorbell for the third time, even though there are no cars parked in the driveway or side of the road other than their own. Morgan looks through the window as he passes by and doesn't see any signs of a person in the house. He continues on to the gate to the backyard and finds that it's already open.

Taking his gun out, he walks cautiously through the weed and dirt trodden path as he sees a woman trying to break down a door.

"FBI!" Morgan yells. "Turn around and put your hands in the air!"

The woman turns around. She is dressed in ripped and dirty clothing. She has a bandana on her mouth and Morgan cannot see her eyes behind her large sunglasses. She has a black baseball cap on with a dirty blonde ponytail sliding out the back. She has black gloves on, and they seem to be latex. As she turned around, Morgan saw her attempts of breaking down the door included shooting it and then Morgan suddenly notices a gun with a silencer attached to the nozzle being clenched by the woman's left hand.

"Drop the gun!" Morgan shouts, and the woman just fires in retaliation. Morgan bolts to the ground to dodge the bullet, giving the unsub a head start. She begins jumping over fences and cutting through backyards and Morgan follows her the minute both his feet are flat on the ground.

He doesn't know what Sara is doing as he also begins to jump over fences, and right now he doesn't really care. He's hopping fences, cutting through lawns, probably stepping in dog crap, listening to angry and scared civilians, dodging more speeding bullets as they jet towards Morgan from the unsub's gun, shooting at the unsub and also keeping an eye on the unsub. Knowing what Sara Sidle is doing at this moment in time is not on Morgan's to-do list.

He had to have cut through nine or ten yards when the unsub suddenly makes a sharp turn. Morgan follows her onto the street just outside of the neighborhood, and of course it has to be rush hour on this particular street. The unsub quickly cuts through two cars going in opposite directions and fires another shot at Morgan as she whips around on the other side of the street. Morgan quickly side-steps and accidently bumps into a woman walking her dog, and by the time he recovers the unsub is gone.

"Damnit!" Morgan shouts at the unsub and takes out his phone while he catches his breath. "Sara?...No, she got away...I'll be right there,"

As Morgan sprints back to Tommy's house, his stomach begins to churn harder and he can taste the stench of puke as images of dirt and wooden coffins swirl in his mind, with a soundtrack of echoing screaming...

Tommy buried himself alive.

* * *

Nick knocks on the frame of the doorway to the hospital room, where Tommy is hooked up to an oxygen machine. He was in the coffins for a couple hours, Jessica had said. JJ is talking to the doctor about Tommy's condition.

"What, no camera?" Tommy asks hoarsely as Nick takes a seat next to him.

"Didn't want you to break it again," Nick replies with a smile. "What were you thinking, Tommy? Why'd you do this?"

"Wha-what do you mean, I-I just got knocked-" Tommy mutters, but Nick interrupts him by handing him a glass of water.

"Jessica told us everything about your burial, Tommy. And she isn't lying," Nick tells him with a smile that was totally fake and filled with irritation.

Tommy sensed this, especially when he made quick eye contact with Nick before his eyes darted down at the cup of water.

"It's a ritual," Tommy mutters, as if he's ashamed of not telling Nick the truth sooner. "Jessica, Ian, his girlfriend and I...we're part of a cult,"


End file.
